


and if you have a minute why don't we go (talk about it somewhere only we know)

by clintasherson



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst??, Canon Divergence - Captain America: Civil War (Movie), F/M, I hope y'all enjoy, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), also idk how to tag, also on that note it probably sucks, i'm fixing what they fucked up, insert clown face, this is my first fic so be nice, this is the first time i've like ever shown my writing to people so i'm having a minor panic attack, what really happened in civil war
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:02:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28398912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clintasherson/pseuds/clintasherson
Summary: What really happened during Civil War-aka; im (hopefully) fixing what all these writers continue to fuck up because i can
Relationships: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 13
Kudos: 16





	and if you have a minute why don't we go (talk about it somewhere only we know)

**Author's Note:**

> so um, hi??? omg why am i doing this. it's fine self ok...it's fine. so hi um, i've never done this whole "writing a fic" thing before. in fact i'm pretty sure i've never ever written anything that's not school-related so....this might be scary and probably sucks BUT we remain positive so i don't have a breakdown. to be honest, i don't even know what this is as this point because i wrote most of this at 3am but i'm really just done so yeah. basically i'm (hopefully) fixing what the russo's continue to fuck up but anyways...
> 
> disclaimer: I SUCK AT GRAMMAR OK...half the time i misspell the the word grammar so that says a lot. I AM SO SORRY if there are any mistakes with comma's and spelling and such. i tried my best while editing but i am *obviously* not perfect. oh and also for all you swifties, you may find some small easter eggs throughout and if i'm being completely honest they were not even intentional.
> 
> i really hope you guys enjoy. tysm to ashlea and cheree and shelby and everyone else i scream with over on twitter. if anyone wants to join, you can find me at @clintxtasha and listen to me rant about everything from these two dorks to....well that's basically it. 
> 
> chapter title is from lily allen's cover of "somewhere only we know" and if you are interested there's also a playlist to go along with it (it's not the best...just filled with songs that remind me of clintasha) here  
> : https://open.spotify.com/playlist/52BkuhJ4iHf9kJdhVZYFS9?si=7ytMkF2uTXyjO2TqtUVEsA
> 
> i really hope y'all enjoy this xx

Clint never enjoyed the whole “beat each other to a pulp” aspect of his job, especially now. As much as he hated to admit it, he was getting older. At this point, his back was just a insufficient stick barely managing to hold him up, his knees made every snap, crack, and pop known, and, even though he would never tell anyone, he got a _little_ stuck trying to pick up Nathan off the floor last week for dinner. As if it wasn’t hard enough before to keep up with the others, now deemed nearly impossible.

Clint also didn’t enjoy the aftermath of the fighting either, he loathed it in fact. As talented of an assassin as he was, avoiding getting hit in hand-to-hand was out of the question and there’s only so many times after getting whacked by your opponent before the pain starts to really sink in. Pain that lasts not just a couple of hours, but for weeks and weeks on end, dealing with aches, bruises, cramps, sore spots, and any other discomforts the universe decides to punish his miserable self with. Clint hated the pain, and not just because it hurt- yes, of course it did- but it served as a constant reminder. A memento that he was simply human, breakable and replaceable. He’s no god or super-soldier or giant green indestructible rage monster, not that he really wanted to be, but still. He didn’t have a high-tech suit of armor, fully armed at all times and could _literally fly_. No, he was just Clint, just a guy with a couple of arrows, some pretty keen eyesight, and when in a rather arduous predicament, could fend off who he needed in order to survive. This mental persona of himself would always be Clint’s downfall and no matter how many people justified his significance as a member of this team, he would never see himself as a vital player.

It’s why he decided to retire in the first place, that and Laura, of course. She had never been the biggest fan of his profession to begin with and now with the kids, she had become more and more adamant that he spend time with the family, especially with Nathan in the mix. It’s not that he didn’t love his family, he did with all of his heart. But, _before_ he met Laura all those years ago, he had one focus, S.H.I.E.L.D. Get to the top, be the best, and take out anyone he needed. _Before_ Laura, he lived the life of a nomad, sojourning in a different country every week, trying not to get his head blown off, and it was absolutely thrilling. It's how he intended to spend the rest of days. It was what he loved in life. _Before_ Laura, it was just him, his bow, and Natasha.

 _Natasha._ God, Natasha. She was....well, he didn't really know to be honest. He would just say that she was his best friend to anyone that asked because it made explaining it all _so_ much less complex and helped avoid getting into the nitty gritty details. Natasha genuinely was his best friend, of course, but their relationship to Clint, was _more_. She knew him better than any other living person on the planet, even Laura. She had been exposed to his rawest, most vulnerable form. She had seen every side of his mirrorball and through all of it, she had stayed loyal, never leaving his side. His person, his constant, his Tasha. 

But he never fully grasped the true complexity of what they had because he was petrified to dig any deeper, fearing that their relationships' true colors would reveal something they could never have. He clung to the constant denial that they didn't venture any farther past the barriers of a deep partnership and their love was that of a familial base. It had to be — there was no other viable option – because Clint had a _family_ and Natasha….if she had any interest in reciprocating his perpetually concealed emotions, he would have thought after all this time, some slight signal, some gesticulation, some blinding light, _something_ would have unveiled that. But nothing ever did, so he took all of it and bottled it up tightly, locked it in an unbreakable cage, and buried it so far within himself that only his deepest thoughts knew the treacherous path to unlock it. Only in those scarce wrinkles in time when he indulged himself into her endless green orbs or allowed her breathtaking laughter to overtake his senses, did Clint ever have access to that cage. Each time it was unlocked he tried to bury it deeper and deeper into his soul, but the more he attempted, the further he dug down – the more that it was slowly rising to the surface.

***

Orange slices. There’s no way that he just heard that one guy – Scott was his name? – yeah, Scott….ask for fucking orange slices. Really, _really,_ right _now_ , right when they were in the middle of beating the shit out of each other and hurling airplanes and lighting up buildings and firing explosives and honestly, when he takes it all in, acting like a couple of 5 year olds fighting over who gets the last scoop of ice cream. Unfortunately for Clint, it's too late to look back on today’s atrocious mistakes which heavily outnumber the positive decisions made by his dumbass. He glances up as the sweat trickles down his forehead and the pain – dammit the pain – begins to set in, to catch a glimpse of the quinjet flying over his head and into the distance with Tony, Rhodes, and Sam trailing it close behind. _Whatever_ , he’s done, he did his job. Cap and Bucky got away and now, _now_ he’s gotta pay for his choice to fight for what’s right. God, why did he always get involved in this shit? But what was he supposed to do?

***

He had gotten the call from Steve at 2 in the morning. He had started toasting waffles in the kitchen while everyone else was passed out upstairs. Clint didn’t really sleep anymore, he didn’t know why – well, he did – but he still hadn’t yet learned how to adjust. He put the kids to bed and laid in silence until he heard Laura’s breathing even out and was absolutely certain she was sound asleep. Then the night became his. The time where the hawk could sit back and stretch his wings. Sometimes he read a book or two, or whipped something up in the kitchen if it wasn’t too loud, or kept his eyes glazed on the television while getting lost in his own mind. 

He used to call Tasha. Every night he would stay on the phone for hours just listening to the sound of her voice as she recounted every tiny, perfect detail about her day. He often found her divulged in conversing about a number of topics that everyone else seemed to gauge as unimportant or maybe it was that he was the only one she really ever opened up to as a real human and not just a coworker she had shared near-death experiences with. She went on about how Tony was being an asshole, and the newbies (he always made sure to ask about Wanda), and how Cap wouldn’t ever shut up about “the good old days” of his fossil self, and just everything. 

That didn’t really happen anymore. She got busy and he got...busy. So when he heard his phone start buzzing at 2 in the morning his heart leapt from his chest, did a couple somersaults and sank right back down when he glanced at the caller ID. 

It wasn’t a hard decision to begin with and then he heard the whole team would be there, even Nat. Clint paused a moment before responding. He didn’t want to sound _that_ desperate to get out of the middle of nowhere and back to the bustling city. 

“I’ll be there, 16 hours tops.” 

“I need you to make a couple stops before ya head out, if you're good with that?” 

“Sounds good Rogers. Just gimme the details on the quinjet. I gotta get outta here while I still can.” 

Clint knew the moment Laura found out he was sneaking off to go help Cap in a possibly dangerous mission half-way across the world to go stop the people that are supposed to be his _team_ , he probably wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon.

Steve chuckled. “Alright then, see you tomorrow at Leipzig-Halle Airport, you got that?” 

“Yes sir, that all?” 

“Pretty much. Oh and Clint...” 

Clint knew what was coming. He wasn’t stupid. He had watched news, he knew what had happened in Austria. He almost called Nat. 

But then he saw her in the background of one of the reporters interviews and dismissed the terse thought. He had braced himself for what Steve was about to say for the entirety of the conversation yet he found himself caught off guard, unprepared to let the words flow from his mouth. This one moment could change everything. Was it worth it? Was _it_. 

He was done kidding himself. Was _she_ worth it?

Always.

“We’re outside the law on this one so...it could get pretty gnarly. You still on?”

“Yeah I’m good.”

That was that. He had made his decision and the pang of emotion he felt seeping from his soul the moment the words left his mouth justified that it was the right one.

“Also Cap…”

“Yeah Barton?”

“‘Gnarly’ is about 3 decades off.” He smirked as he hung up the phone with Steve’s exasperated sigh dying in the background. 

He was out of the house within the next half-hour on his way to New York, leaving a note on the counter for Laura. A note that explained everything, _everything_ . He knew she would be pissed. He knew his kids would be disappointed. But, he couldn’t do it anymore. This so-called “retirement” justified every stray thought he ever had to be more valid and true than anything this life could give him. He couldn’t sit in that stagnant house waiting for the solution to all his problems to just fall from the sky. Waiting for the world to fall apart past the point of no return that they would have no _choice_ but to call him. Waiting for Laura to realize this, this life, wasn’t working. Waiting to hear Nat’s voice again. Waiting to see her. Waiting for _her_. 

He was done waiting. He was gone, for good.

***

He climbed off the collapsed jetway where he had ended up after the whole “Scott’s a 70 ft giant now and he’s smashing airplanes and throwing Rhodeys so let's move outta the way”, and headed over to the rubble that concealed the front of the quinjet hangar. The airport was bizarrely quiet although he picked up a familiar sound, the name was on the tip of his tongue but he couldn’t quite place it from inside. He slid through some fallen debris to the other side and was frozen still by what he saw. _Nat._ She was firing her widow bites — he knew he’d heard that sound before — _at T’challa._

He knew she would come through. No matter how many times she repeatedly pushed away the gnawing thought that the Sokovia Accords and Tony’s plan and everything that their team had been doing was what was _right_ , she knew it was no match for her true feelings that were glistering through like the stars on a cloudless night. He knew her. He could see her falling apart inside as he peered into the windows of her soul. What they were doing right now, this was her nightmare coming true. Her family was tearing itself apart and she was terrified she would be left to fend for herself, that she would be alone and succumb to what, to who she used to be before. Losing S.H.I.E.L.D had hit her deep, but she would never heal if she lost this team, this family.

“I said I’d help you find him not catch him. There’s a-a difference.” she stuttered to T’challa as he stared at her with disgust and finally sprinted off to trail the quinjet.

Just before he climbed out of the hanger he called back to her. “Don’t think I won’t report your actions to the secretary Ms. Romanoff.”

He left her standing inertly as she took in her surroundings and realized what really just happened. T’challa was gone and Nat was left standing in the dust of her team's downfall. She was the glue, agglutinating this band of freaks together and he knows her mind is ringing with failure.

“Natasha!”

Her face looked almost startled as she whipped her head around and gawked at him with eyes so wide they looked as if they were about to burst from their sockets. In that split second, the world froze and dissolved around them. They had seen each other during the fight, but the mixture of adrenaline, stress, and trying not to get blown up had kept their thoughts preoccupied from processing that it’d been nearly a year since they’d seen each other last. 

He approached her swiftly, yet cautiously, taking in her long awaited presence. She had grown out her hair and it had lightened slightly, he didn’t mind it one bit in fact, every time the style changed he tended to enjoy it more than the last. Her eyes, gorgeous as ever, had developed slight, dark rings around them that one would normally miss, but Clint, he saw the toll that these past few weeks had taken on her. 

As the distance between them decreased, Clint became more in-touch with his surroundings, escaping the dream-like void that they had momentarily become entranced within. He stopped about 3 feet from reaching her. He wanted to rush up and embrace her endlessly but something about it felt foreign, like reuniting with a best friend after months of being on vacation. He didn’t know how to approach her without it coming off as awkward for the both of them. This continued to confuse him even more because in all his years of knowing and understanding his partner, this feeling of uncertainty has never been one shared between them. 

He knew why.

Everything had changed and yet, nothing had.

They continued to stare at each other's blank faces. He stared into her eyes. Their beauty was beyond comparison and he could say that confidently in his mind, no matter what alarms fired throughout his brain. He could get lost in them for days. They were a never-ending sea of emotions and color that he immersed himself into, diving head-first to peer into the small window between the outside world and her soul within. He craved the minuscule moments where he could sail along the shores of the story told by her green orbs until time himself crashed in, leaving him sinking like the titanic. 

How could he do this? How did he do this? For years, how has he done this and thought that everything was as perfect as a fairytale ending? 

This was it. His emotions had finally conquered the route to that unexplored region of his soul that he had buried so long ago. He watched as she finally broke their gaze and glanced behind her, ensuring that no one else was within the concealed hangar. Her eyes glazed over as hot tears threatened to boil over the surface and spill across her flawless complexion. 

He took a step forward and that was her queue. She raced into his arms and sobbed into his shoulder as he consumed her presence. Her odd scent of roses and gunpowder devoured his senses as her tears soaked through his suit. This had broken her and he had every intention of building her back up. 

He would never leave her again as long as he lived, even if she decided to leave him.

As he felt her gasping breath begin to even out, he inched backwards to look at her once more. A lifetime of gazing at his Tasha would never be enough. She deeply inhaled and stared at the ground, choking out something at almost a whisper so much that Clint had to draw his attention away from her face and focus on retaining what she uttered. 

“We fucked up, god, we fucked up bad Clint and I-I’m….” Her breath hitched as she tried to finish her unbearable sentence. 

“Clint, I’m so sorry….for, for everything.” 

Silent tears began to leak once more as he understood. She wasn’t talking about the team. She was talking about him, about them. He grasped her neck, tilting her head to face him. 

“You don’t ever apologize, you hear me. Tasha nothing that happened, with us, with the team, none of it was your fault. You don’t blame yourself, ever. You hear me? I fucked up. I retired, ok? I left and it all went to shit because I was too selfish to face the truth.”

He saw her twitch as the last of his words left his mouth but she never broke from his gaze. 

***

It was sudden. Like she was knocked out of a trance that had held her captive for the entirety of their reconciliation. She jerked out of his embrace and stared at him in an almost horror-like state. Her eyes went from open and vulnerable to ice cold, closing off from the world. 

“Clint what in the actual fuck is your problem?”

It took a minute for him to snap out of it and register what had just occurred. He had utter confusion written all over his face, and he was _utterly confused_. One minute she's standing there crying in his arms, apologizing and now she's yelling at him for who knows what reason.

Then it clicked.

"Why the fuck are you here? You...you retired...you left for Laura and the kids. How did she even let you come out here?" 

Clint's blank expression left him standing like an open book for her to read. She scoffed, looking almost disgusted at his existence. He knew that today's mistakes were colossal in comparison to any of the dumb shit he had done before. He knew that he deserved this resentment from her, yet it stung. He wanted to broadcast it on the biggest billboard he could find, shout it from the rooftops, _anything_. He wanted to tell her the truth, why he came here, what he'd been hiding for years, what he'd buried oh so long ago. He wanted to tell her that he... **no**.

He ~~couldn't~~ wouldn't do that to her.

He knew she didn't reciprocate it and he wouldn't burden her with his repressed emotions. His eyes slowly fell from her face to the debris along the ground. He couldn't face her when she looked at him like that. Even after all this time, he had never been able to. 

"Clint." 

She took a deep breath before continuing.

"I'm only gonna ask you this once. What the _hell_ are you doing here?"

***

It had been an early Sunday morning. Nathan had kept both him and Laura up all night, not that he wasn't used to it, but just because he rarely got any sleep didn't mean it was ineffectual to his well-being. The only difference is that when _Laura_ didn't get any sleep, she got really pissy, really fast. This basically lead to chaos and arguing all day with the constant echo of "Clint why aren't you helping around the house?" and "Clint stop watching the damn news and deal with your kids." and "Clint are you ever going to be involved in this family or am I gonna to have to _continue_ to do _everything_ around here?" all throughout the house. 

The mixture of pure exhaustion, stress, and irritability lead to a chemical explosion within Clint's system and the common retort of "Laura, I'm trying to help around this damn house and deal with the kids but you won't tell me what you need me to do!?" and "Yes, I'm gonna watch the fucking news and check to see whether my friends are dead or not." was occurring more and more often.

This particular day Clint was especially ticked off after everything that had happened in Vienna and completely snapped. "Fuck Laura, everything I do is wrong and nothing is ever good enough for you! I'm so goddamn sick of this. This is me trying...ok? You don't think I wanna be the perfect husband and the perfect father? Of course I do, but you make that fucking impossible. You think I wanna be cooped up in this house watching the world crumble around us and this family along with it?! You think I-"

"Daddy?" 

Lila had crept into the room unbeknownst to her parents. Clint abruptly ended his rant and perched himself over the side of the bed where Lila had been silently sitting. 

"Hey, sweetheart. Daddy's sorry for all the yelling. What's up?" 

"I made you this! Since you don't get to hang out with your friends anymore, I drew a picture of them for you to have. Do you like it?" Lila smiled exuberantly as she handed Clint a marker-soaked page with figures who resembled the six heroes who had visited there house just over a year ago.

"I even added Aunty Nat!"

And she had. A quite disfigured looking woman with bright red hair was right there on the page next to Clint himself. _God he missed her._

"I love it Lila-bug. Thank you. I'll treasure it forever." Clint smiled as he snuggled Lila into a bear hug.

"Hey Lila, hunny, how 'bout you go downstairs and show Cooper your pretty drawing?" Laura advised. Lila skipped out of the room towards the stairs, out of range of the continuation of his and Laura's conversation (if that's what you call it). Laura shut the door behind Lila and stood motionless for an extended moment. She slowly turned to face him with an expression he had never witnessed before. Her usual warm, brown eyes had turned dark and emotionless. 

"If you _ever_ yell like that in this house again, _especially_ in front of our children, you're out." She spit out with utter disgust sprawled out over her face. 

"If you want to go back to them, to your old life as a death-defying vigilante then _leave,_ because I'm done with this shit. I mean honestly Clint, what the _hell_ are you doing here?"

***

"I won't ask again Clint."

He ricocheted back into this reality of his impossible internal battle. His brain and his heart were crashing against each other like the rips of Bondi and he was stranded in between, unable to swim to the safety of the sandy beach. He wasn't sure what stimulated his confidence to fly out here the minute he'd gotten Steve's call, he just knew he needed to see _her_. 

He was so sure of his feelings, yet that voice in the back of his head continued to hold him back. But, no matter this conflict he faced within, he would never lie to her. That was something he promised the moment he'd caught the first glimpse of her eyes and aimed that arrow slightly higher than her heart. 

"You really wanna know Tash? Because to be honest, _I_ don't even know anymore. I don't know why I snuck out here just to get my ass mixed in with this whole Sokovia issue. I don't know why I left behind my kids with that woman who I can't even bear to call my wife anymore. I don't know why I couldn't sleep a minute in that house. I don't know why I stopped calling to check in. I don't know why I left or retired or whatever. I just...don't know."

A single tear trickled down her cheek as she just stood there, speechless. 

"But, I am sure of one thing and that's that I needed to see you. I needed to see you because Natasha, there wasn't a minute in that house where I sat there and didn't think about anything other than you." 

Clint took a step forward, mere inches from her.

"And if I'm being completely honest, it's not even about the team anymore, I just miss _you_. I miss being out there and beating the shit out of drug lords and trafficking managers. I miss going undercover and spending the rest of the day together when the op was over. I miss S.H.I.E.L.D. and Strike Team Delta and kicking ass. I miss going out for mint ice cream after a successful mission and you always ordering so much extra chocolate syrup that it overpowers the actual ice cream. I miss going to medical and laughing over your corny pick up lines while getting stitched up. I miss watching your eyes light up once that british baking show comes on tv and you just sit there for the next 3 hours watching a marathon of it and yell into oblivion about how everything they do is wrong. I miss convincing you that no matter what hairstyle you decide on your still flawlessly gorgeous. I miss your laugh. I miss your smile. Tasha, I miss _you_." 

He stopped when he realized she was sobbing and tears had been streaming down his own cheeks unnoticed. He stared, again. It was all he could do. Stare at those beautiful, irresistible, now glassy eyes. They told her story like no spoken words could. 

"Clint?" she whispered

His gaze never broke. He sighed, "Tasha I'm sorry for laying this all out and I'm not even really sure what it all means. I just know I'm not going back to how it was before and if that means that I have to leave, then so be it but I-"

She cut him off by pressing her lips to his. It was soft at first, almost questioning him, asking if this was what he wanted. He responded with every sealed emotion he'd ever felt for her, searing out his every pore. He kissed her back as if it was the last breath he would ever inhale on this planet. It was like he was blind and just now put in a pair of contacts. Every question he'd ever had was spelled out in the clearest font. It had been her, it had always been her. 

He kissed her and she kissed him.

They shared a passion unimaginable to the outside world of simple bystanders. He didn't just love her, he thrived off of her. She was his soulmate. He could never imagine a life without her and for just that moment, everything was complete perfection.

***

It took a moment for the sound to register in his mind until the volume was so loud it was impossible to ignore. It grew and grew, louder with every second. They were almost here and Clint could tell it wasn't just a few of them. 

He saw a flash of red and in the blink of an eye, the rubble covering the entrance to the hangar was wiped from view. Wanda was standing there with a terrified look, like she had witnessed a ghost flash before her. He had only seen that look once before, when he was watching the aftermath of Nigeria flashing along his television. He caught a glimpse of her face and never had he seen someone so horrified. 

That same face was plastered along her now. He knew why.

He glanced back at Natasha, flickered his eyes down to her lips, and took off with her towards where Wanda stood. She had begun to sob uncontrollably as Clint got his first view of what was headed there direction. Dozens of assorted police cars, SWAT teams, and government officials were headed right for them. This was it. There was no escaping that. 

Clint knew he wouldn't get far if he ran and it would be a lot worse if he got caught doing so. He took Wanda's hand and looked at her somberly before embracing her sobs. When she finally controlled her weeping, he gazed along the remainder of the wreckage, in search of the remaining 7 members who were scattered among the airport. 

He counted Wanda, the Scott-giant guy, and that kid that Tony brought. Everyone else was out of sight. 

"Where's everyone else?" Natasha asked Wanda.

"You didn't see?" Wanda responded questioningly.

Clint instantly shot back. "See what? What happened?"

Wanda took in a deep sigh. "It's Rhodey. V-Vision was aiming for Sam's glider but he-he accidentally hit Rhodes. He fell out of the damn sky. Tony and Same tried to catch him but they weren't fast enough. I think they're over there still. I don't even know if he's alive." She choked out the last part.

"How the hell did we let it get this bad?" Nat asked rhetorically.

Clint sighed and took her hand, turning to make eye contact with her. She leaned her head over on his shoulder momentarily, before their impending doom hit mere minutes later. He soaked in everything about her presence for what might be the last time before he was taken away and punished with who knows what. He only knew one thing. Whatever happened, he knew he would choose her. Everything had changed. From now on, it was forever and always, Tasha. 

***

They had them separated, Clint and the remainder of Cap's allies on the ground and in cuffs. No matter what they had done, Clint thought their methods to be absolutely barbaric. They were loading Wanda into a straight jacket for fucks sake. 

Clint was so done. "You know she's a fucking kid right Ross? Or wait I forgot, you only give a shit about your ego and not what's actually right."

"Mr. Barton, if anyone has a faulty sense of what's ethical, it's this little circus troupe of yours. Another word out of your mouth and you won't see anything but the inside of a prison cell for the next 20 years." he spat in Clint's ear. 

He scoffed. He had never been fond of the word "circus" and coming out of Ross's mouth had hit a nerve that hadn't been triggered in a while. He knew he fucked up but this was extreme. For the first time in a long time, Clint was silently anxious about what the future held. He knew he was going to jail, but for how long? He had no idea. How long before he could live a normal life again? Before he could see Natasha? 

_God, the universe hasn't changed one bit._ It rang through his mind. Every time he had gotten a smidgen of pleasure in his life, it was immediately retaliated with an even harsher punishment. It had happened with Loki, S.H.I.E.L.D., Ultron, his family, and now even with Nat. He was so sick of it all. His life couldn't just be normal for one _goddamn_ second. 

Even throughout all this chaos and confusion, Clint's thoughts remained focused on Natasha. He was finally taking it in. _He had kissed Natasha....and it was everything and more._ That confusion and treacherous path had finally become straight and forward. He understood it now, his love for her. It was familial whatsoever, in fact it was quite the opposite. He ~~wanted~~ needed to kiss her. He needed to tell her, he loved her. 

He couldn't see her while he was pinned down but he overheard her voice. She was talking to Ross, he assumes.

"I need to talk to him, just for a moment, _please_."

"I'm afraid that's not possible Ms. Romanoff. You're lucky you're not headed where they are after the shenanigans you pulled off here."

" _Please._ Just two minutes is all I need. Please just let me say goodbye."

He had never heard Natasha beg, ever. He couldn't hear the remainder of the conversation but the next thing he knows, he's being seated upwards and she's standing there in front of him.

"I-I don't know what to do Clint and I-I'm scared. They're gonna take you away and I-", she didn't finish.

"Hey, look at me." His hands were still bound so he couldn't grasp her neck, but she turned anyways. "You can do this ok? I promise I will figure this out and no matter what happens, I will never leave you. Even if I'm stuck in there for a couple years, I will **never** leave you ok?"

She hugged him tightly and cried into his shoulder. 

"Promise me you won't. Promise me you'll be back."

"Even if they put me on another planet, I'll be there." He chuckled a little, trying to lighten her mood even the slightest bit.

She smiled through her tear stained cheeks. She still more beautiful than Aphrodite herself. He captured that mental image of her beauty, clinging to it, never letting go.

"Natasha-" he whispered, glancing to see if anyone was watching. Only Ross and a few men in charge of containing him.

"Yeah?" She looked up at him.

"I love you. I love you more than life itself. I have always loved you and I will continue to love you for as long as I live. I just...I've been an idiot and I've wasted time and now I'm wasting even more. But I need you to know, I love you _moy pauk_." 

She kissed him and he spent his every breathe indulging in it, deepening it, not wasting a moment because he knew it would be the last for a while.

" _Moy yastreb-"_

"Alright that's enough lovebirds." Ross demanded as he pulled Natasha by the arm, away from Clint. 

"Wait. Wait!" she struggled against him, breaking free. 

"You go back and you're going along with 'em in one of those cells." 

She stared at him. He mouthed _I love you_ and she turned with Ross back to the crowd with Tony and whoever else dodged getting sent away. He took one last look at her, staring until she was out of sight. They loaded him into a SWAT truck along with Sam and Scott. At least he told her.

_At least he told her._

***

He sat in that cold cell with nothing but thoughts of her wadding through his mind. He tried to ignore everything that had happened that day, especially Tony's stuck up ass coming in here acting like everything was all chipper and life was great.

Clint had been laying there for about 3 hours now with some uncomfortable object jabbing him in the back. He finally had the energy to see what the hell was stabbing him and he sat up. He reached behind and felt something crumpled in his pocket. _Paper._ He uncrumpled the ball and realized what it was. 

_I made you this! Do you like it?_

Shit.

_I even added Aunty Nat!_

What had he done.

***

**6 Months Later**

She decided she didn't like it the moment the stylist had lifted her to the mirror. But likes and dislikes didn't matter anymore. She needed a solid disguise and this was it. It was different and she missed the bright red pigment of her hair but sacrifices had to be made in times like these. 

_Clint always liked it red. He's gonna be disappointed. But, he'll like it no matter what, he always does._

No matter how long she had had to prepared, she didn't think she would ever be ready to see Clint again. Yet, the day was here. After all the shit she had gone through these past months, it was actually quite refreshing to think that she would see a part of her family again. She and Steve planned on meeting in the passage under the bridge with the quinjet. Apparently he had broken them all out of the Raft and now they were finally all meeting up. Which meant she also had to acknowledge the inevitable, _they were fugitives._

Being on the run wasn't something she was foreign with, but she wasn't a fan of it by any means. But it was the only viable option, if it meant avoiding a prison sentence.

>> _Just landed. Be quick._

_> >On my way. Be there in 5._

As she rounded the corner, the butterflies that previously occupied her stomach flew away. She wasn't nervous. She was excited. She was finally going to see him after all this time. She was gonna kiss him and finally tell him what she hadn't been able to before. She was gonna tell him that she loved him. Yes, love was for children, it always had and always will be. It's why she wasn't able to tell him back at the airport. But Clint was _more._ He was her soulmate, her other half. She didn't love Clint, she _loved_ him. She thrived off of his existence. She couldn't live without him. 

"Natasha!" Steve shouted from across the wash.

Natasha nearly jumped from being so lost in her thoughts. She couldn't wait any longer. She ran up to Steve and embraced him in a long hug. Sam was there to. 

"Bucky?" She questioned.

"Wakanda. They're sorting out his mind. We'll pick him up when everything's good. He didn't want to be used as a weapon ever again."

Natasha could respect that. It's similar to what she had to go through when she joined S.H.I.E.L.D. But it worked. Look at where she was now. She might be on the run from the government and wanted in several countries, but she had people. She had the remnants of her family and the love of her life. What could go wrong?

Steve could tell by the look on her face. "They're in the jet. We're taking off in 5." 

She smiled slightly and nodded. Her stomach was twisted into a pretzel and she lowered the ramp to enter the quinjet. _Finally. I missed you, mon yastreb. I love you._

She stepped into the jet and saw-

Her mind when blank.

_Wanda. Vision. Sam. Steve._

_Wanda. Vision. Sam. Steve._

_Wanda. Vision. Sam. Steve-_

"Natasha!" Wanda smiled and ran up to embrace her. 

_Wanda. Vision. Sam. Steve._

"Are you ok Nat?"

_Wanda. Vision. Sam. Steve._

"Natasha?"

_He was gone. He left me. He went back and left me. He promised. He left me. I never got to tell him._

Clint was gone and Natasha was-

**Author's Note:**

> so yea....idek honestly. like what was that? maybe i'll continue it??? should i even it's honestly a train wreck. ok well. oh and also that ending....NOT MY FAULT OK...IT'S THE RUSSO'S AND KEVIN FIEGE AND JOSS WHEDON AND EVERY OTHER DUMBASS AT MARVEL STUDIOS. not my fault ok, take it up with them. i hope you enjoyed even a small part of that. thank you sm for reading. if you want, feel free to leave a comment or kudos or whatever. again, tysm and i really hope you enjoyed whatever *that* was. xx
> 
> playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/52BkuhJ4iHf9kJdhVZYFS9?si=7ytMkF2uTXyjO2TqtUVEsA


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